Tempting Fate
by Chyrstis
Summary: Thieves aren't handed the fate of world. No, their lives are often lived in obscurity, fading into the vast pages of history. However, if such a person is offered an opportunity, will she be willing to give up her old life for a new one?
1. Prologue

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Disclaimer:

I do not own the Elder Scrolls series, but Bethesda does. They're a very lucky bunch, aren't they?

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**Tempting Fate**

**Prologue**

Drunken revelry usually was the prelude to something more sinister. Exchanging sense and reason for bliss in a bottle, responsibility became nothing more than an irritating voice in the back of one's head, representing past mistakes, present choices, and the uncertain future.

Maybe that was why so many drank to forget. The sin of indulgence and hedonism provided a temporary reprieve from such memories and for some the opportunity was tempting enough.

The bottle had called to her from its post on a battered crate. The owner was a notorious drinker; a fact Linith discovered when she had finally picked the lock to his room. Bottles littered the dusty floor and she paid them no mind until she faced the exit, one small barrier in place.

She had what she had come for, supplies and clothes. Her pack was already beginning to bulge at the seams, but that point conveniently came and went. There was simply alcohol and the knowledge that if necessary, space could be made. A thought had taken root then, the image of a celebration amongst friends bringing a smile to her face.

She took one and then two, knowing that she wasn't the only one who enjoyed the swill. It was cheap and awful, and she was doing the owner a favor by relieving him of it. After all, what harm was there in living a little?

None at all, she had thought. Now if you were to ask the guards currently chasing her…they would probably have some objections.

This had to be payback. Only that could explain how spectacularly their plan had failed.

The normally buzzing streets had been empty, not a single soul present on the abandoned stone paths. That was not a good sign at all she realized now, yet their need to finish the job had outweighed their inherent fear of capture.

Armand had assigned them both to a simple job, one that required them to retrieve supplies. Their target, the warehouse on the waterfront, housed everything they needed to help them accomplish that. Food and clothes were always valuable necessities, but some were reserved for the beggars, their most important source of information.

Methredhel had been her partner in crime tonight, and Linith hoped that in spite of everything, the other Bosmer wouldn't intervene. Lately, she'd been far from graceful in her jobs and duties. One completed job led to another, and the routine had begun to wear on her in a rather unpleasant way. She was silent and careful, finished her given task, and when everything was taken care of, she was paid.

Curiosity decided to speak up. Although she'd completed her task, how many different ways could she have done the same thing?

She had luck. Being born under the Thief's constellation had predisposed her to such a trait, and more than once she had relied exclusively on it.

When would it run out completely?

Linith began to test it repeatedly. Sometimes she would fail to bring enough lockpicks, and other times she wouldn't watch her step in some of the more trap-heavy ruins of the Ayleids. It had remained strong and true, holding up in spite of all the stress hefted onto it.

Now, how had it handled her biggest challenge? Turning herself into a distraction good enough to keep the infamous watch captain Hieronymus Lex looking the other way, twiddling his thumbs? One of Linith's guildmates had picked a pocket dangerously close to him, and out of desperation, she had thrown together an outfit and asked him for directions to the nearest Inn. Her costume consisted of rags haphazardly stitched together, and to finish off the look, she had grabbed a handful of dirt and smeared it on her face. She had half expected him to see through the not so clever subterfuge and slap her with a jail sentence.

Even at that moment, did it threaten to falter? Why no, it didn't. The guard captain had even offered to walk her there, and it had taken all her remaining willpower to retain the façade instead of collapsing to the ground, laughing all the while.

No, that wasn't the breaking point. Her luck had decided to exit under the guise of a much more mundane item.

Months earlier, the bottom of her old sack had completely ripped open. It had already suffered the recklessness of another when she had come into possession of it, and late one night the stretched tan bottom had decided to give up the fight. Impatient and irritated, she'd taken up a needle and added several sloppy rushed stitches to repair it for the moment. They looked awful and barely held the torn ends together, but by her standards, they worked.

Slipping back to present time, she'd forgotten how frail the speedy manufactured bond between the two ends was. She'd only taken the time to remember that it was a bag, and that it had the capacity to hold quite a few items if need be. Said bag was then stuffed to the brim, and two bottles of pure vice took up whatever space remained. One with particularly good hearing could've heard the stitches creaking then.

The guard had opened the door to the office of the Imperial Trading Company and walked right past her. She had barely made it out the door when-

The weight on her back was suddenly lifted and that should not have happened at all.

There went one bottle and she only had to wait a second for its twin to follow. By the time the second had announced itself by shattering on the stones below, she was already running, eyes aimed straight ahead with no desire to look back.

Her heart pounded in her chest and threatening to stop once her fears were confirmed. The streets were flooded with guards. Someone had tipped them off. Either that or they had finally wised up.

One guard moved into her path and drew his sword, a wicked blade that glinted in the faint moonlight. Linith's muscles tensed, recognizing the fact that any hit would be detrimental to escape and prepared to dodge.

A rock shot out of the darkness, ricocheting off his helmet and drawing his attention away from her. Linith used that opportunity to charge him, throwing her shoulder into him and knocking him to the ground. She stumbled momentarily, regaining her balance an unsteady step later, knowing that he wouldn't be down for long. The burden spell that she had thrown in as a parting gift wasn't very powerful and she didn't want to waste any time getting as far away as she could.

_Stayhiddenstayhiddenplease _

She really didn't want Methredhel to do any more than she had. She hoped, nearly prayed, but such a thought ended prematurely when arms covered in armor wound around her, roughly tackling her to the ground. She hoped and nearly prayed, but that thought was cut short when she was roughly tackled to the ground. It was a smaller, quicker guard and she refused to let him trap her. Linith rolled, twisted, bit at and even attempted to headbutt him. Her forehead screamed in agony as that action proved extremely ineffective, but desperation refused to let her give up.

Methredhel had called her a lucky son of a fetcher once. Luck was something you either had or you didn't.

This time she didn't.

The throng of city guards closed in, drawing nearer as she broke free. White silver flashed near her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. The guard's grip had slipped on her leather armor, allowing her to scramble on unsteady feet, flight on her mind. However, fear and shock left her rooted to the spot, banishing all feelings of relief.

Unforgiving metal then met bone. Searing agony came in an instant, pain's heat exploding violently in her skull. Darkness rushed in soon after, swallowing her consciousness, while barbed hooks dragged her down a vast tunnel, into a cold, unknown place, devoid of everything.

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Lots of thanks given to Sonsasu The Winter Dragon for being my beta! Hopefully this will be the start of something fun and interesting. It will follow the main quest, but I'll try and add some variety to it. As a warning, the tense used in this section may change in the first chapter. Enjoy, and constructive criticism is always appreciated.


	2. Being Dealt A Bad Hand

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_Disclaimer:_

_I do not own the Elder Scrolls series, but Bethesda does. They're a very lucky bunch, aren't they?_

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**Tempting Fate**

**Chapter One- Being Dealt A Bad Hand**

Linith awoke with a gasp, consciousness rushing back to her immediately, along with the sharp sensations of agony pounding on her skull. With her body now fully aware of the pain flowing through it, she squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to let the tears gathering in them out. Seconds ticked by as she waited, drifting at a slower pace than she would've preferred, but the barbed intensity soon faded, becoming nothing but a dull ache.

She opened her eyes then, her vision unfocused and blurred. Images of splotchy white freely intermingled with hues of gray forming indistinct and random shapes. Feeling rather puzzled, Linith let her eyes wander, trailing an unsteady path towards the ceiling. These baffling shades danced wildly in front of her, before joining together, forming a dark mass of shadows. At the same time, thin beams of light cut through the dusty air, highlighting the dust and other particles that floated about.

This was a foreign place, home to darkness, hidden away from the public eye, lost. Stone, cold and uncaring bored into her semi-blind gaze, the unyielding surfaces of the glistening walls surrounding her beginning to solidify, constrict, squeeze…

Raising her head to look around, she shifted experimentally, but this sudden motion raised many complaints from the muscles in her lower back and between her shoulder blades, pulling them taut like a stressed bowstring. Linith blinked a few times, deciding to stay on her back for the time being, before a blurred object in front of her came into full and complete focus.

The angle was all wrong, the shape not registering at all in her mind as she continued to idly stare at it. Yellow stains, cracks along the sides, giant holes for…eyes…?

A lone skull gaped at her, slack-jawed and decayed.

Linith stared death in the face for a full thirty seconds before that fact finally registered and the need to flee kicked in. Her first attempt ended when she fell into a heap, her wrists haphazardly stuck to each other, throwing her off balance. Her second try also ended in failure, her hands slipping on a particularly grimy spot of the cell, which in turn sent her crashing onto the offending item.

The squeal of terror currently lodged in her constricted throat was making a better attempt to escape than she was. On her third attempt she gave up on her arms altogether, spinning her body around so that her legs could push her body away from it instead.

Colliding with a solid stone barrier, she sucked in a quick breath as the tremors traveled along the planes of her already sore muscles.

Her eyes slid shut, the weight of everything sucking her down like quicksand. Linith was all too aware of the rapid pounding within her chest, and did all she could to gather the clarity and rationale she desperately needed to guide her through this.

It was a skull, only a simple skull…just a skull that used to belong to someone before they managed to rot away in this-

Breaths were taken in, and she tried to calm the chills endlessly running across her shoulders and spine.

_Relax, relax, relax…_She inhaled once, holding it briefly before exhaling, her hands massaging her temples.

…_My name is Linith. I…live on the waterfront of the Imperial City, but don't actually own a house… I have a hawk that likes poking me in the head when I act like an idiot, which is often… I'm in the local thieves guild, and steal for a living. _

_What else… Hobbies, what are my…oh! I collect notes on people, oddities, habits, and quirks... I sing and dance sometimes… I enjoy drinking. I…_

…_I got caught._

It came back to her then, the way the guard had roughly introduced her head to the pavement the night before. That had happened right after she had learned the consequences of headbutting an officer. They weren't immediately dire, but if repeated, she guessed they would ultimately prove to be such.

_Well, you do learn from your mistakes, _Linith mused.

Her forehead throbbed in response and she reached her hand up to inspect the damage. With no panic present to blind her senses, Linith immediately noticed the tugging between her wrists. Clenching her hands she firmly moved them away from each other, the metal chain connecting them objecting with a silent "chnk."

Wrist irons. Rusty and heavy enough to be irritating as hell.

Thankfully she seemed to have none around her ankles, but that still put a serious damper on her movement. There was no comfortable length between them, only a distance of a hand-and-a-half between her wrists.

She sighed, and with no other distractions present, her headache came back in full force. Lazy, nagging sensations beat against her forehead reminding her constantly of her condition. Reaching up, her fingertips absently grazed thick cloth.

That definitely wasn't there before. In fact, her wound was treated, but not healed. The idea struck her as odd at first, but the more Linith thought about it the more the idea appeared to make sense. She would hopefully avoid any infections during her stay, but also wouldn't be at full strength. Prisoners would be kept coddled and emaciated, too dependent on their captors to think clearly or consider escape. It was a subtle form of control and her temper momentarily flared.

Keeping the wound in mind, she concentrated on a light, flowing sensation, calling up one of the only spells she knew. She'd never received injuries worse than sprains or bruises, but the minor healing spell was always useful to have whenever faced with situations like this.

An ache, slow and burning answered her request, and that was not what she was hoping for. Linith tried again, focusing all of her leftover energy into the wound, using any little bit that could be wrung out of her limited store of magicka.

Once again, no answers were given and her need for energy was denied. Linith's tired mind eventually forced her to give up, frustrated by the restraints put upon her. Her condition was far from lethal, but the spell would've given her the pick me up she desperately longed for, and would ultimately be denied, at the moment.

"Fine," Linith huffed. "It's not like I'm a stinking mage, anyway."

A manual check-up would have to do for now. She carefully checked over the rest of her body, glad to find bruises decorating the surface rather than broken bones beneath it. Any movements would've alerted her to severe breaks by now, but the last thing she needed was to find the hidden ones while dodging, say…a crazed madman with a sword. That kind of lesson she could only learn once.

At least some relief could be had regarding the night before. That confrontation could've ended horribly, reducing her to nothing but a shivering mess in a dingy cell. She must've had some luck left to prevent that, any and all scraps making her grateful to be lucky to begin with.

The itchy sackcloth was far from a blessing, however. The realization that her tried and true leather armor had been replaced with the worn and dirty garments made her reach reflexively for her gear, the sound of chains being thrown rapidly back and forth punctuating her hurried movements.

Her wrecked pouch would've lost her essentials on the street, so that was a lost cause to begin with. Her old bow and iron mace? Those could easily be replaced, so Linith didn't waste any time missing them either.

Her armor and journal? Both were one of a kind, customized to fit her and her alone. One was fit to her specifications with what little money and crafting talent she'd had, while the other had her words, thoughts, opinions, and experiences. Everything walking, sitting, and breathing in the Imperial City had warranted a comment or note from her, and in someone else's hands a book like that proved to be one hell of a liability, if not a source of unexpected humor.

Simply put, she'd indirectly handed over all evidence needed to get her and every thief she knew pulled off the street and locked up indefinitely.

"Gods-damn it!" Linith yelled, violently slamming her fist into the one of the many dusty walls of stone surrounding her. That proved to be neither graceful nor clever on her end, leaving her now with a smarting forehead, a bruised ego, and an aching right hand.

At least Methredhel wasn't rotting here with her; Linith was sure she'd be catching the tail end of a string of curses against her family if she were. The other mer had been smart enough to stay out of sight, but had still attempted to retaliate. Thankfully the whole confusing mess brought about by Linith's antics had distracted them enough to focus on her, not whether or not she'd had an accomplice.

A part of her hoped that maybe the others would consider breaking her out, but she had dug the hole she was currently trying to scrape her way out of. She would learn nothing about consequences if that happened.

_If it's your problem, you fix it._ Armand would say. _Don't drag others down for your mistakes, especially stupid ones. _

Linith did her best to take that to heart, though the selfish part of her began to long for their familiar company. This place was too strange, too foreign. The shadows crept along the walls and played tricks with her eyes, the air remaining stagnant and stale.

At least they could both watch out for her feathered companion in the interim. Rowan, her hawk, was never far from her and she expected more than a few jabs from him upon her return.

He'd become a master at expressing exactly how he felt regarding some of her more hare-brained ideas, and she'd in turn learned to read every single expression he could throw at her. That damn hawk was special to her, and the thought of him brought up beautiful images of clear skies, dense forests and crystalline lakes, making the idea of freedom all the more fleeting.

So this is what happens when you gamble with chance and lose. Now she knew why good thieves never got caught. Prison was as close to hell as she wanted to get.

Her time idling about here was up; she had to get out. Using the wall for balance, Linith climbed to her feet, wavering slightly due to the sensation in her head. Equilibrium came quickly however, and once settled she crept towards the rusty barred door. It had a lock, and for every lock there had to be a way to pick it, right?

Times like this made her wish that she'd worn one of the more fashionable and absurd hairstyles. Blonde hair just wasn't meant to hide lockpicks well, unless under the guise of decoration, but any and all adornments would've been confiscated upon arrival, a fact that she didn't want to waste any time thinking about at all.

"…Planning your escape already, wood elf?"

She froze immediately. The sudden sense of someone else being there practically shocked the snot out of her. The halls had been quiet, or quiet enough for her to dismiss any noises as rats or any other odd creatures taking up residence here.

Seeing as how a prison typically holds more than one captive at a time, that fact shouldn't have surprised her at all. It was beginning to look like she'd left her common sense littered on the streets of the Imperial City as well.

Shaking off her surprise, she continued to examine the lock, responding to him in passing. "Good at guessing games, Dunmer_? _I don't exactly see a big sign posted on my cell stating who or what I am."

Red eyes glinted from within the cell opposite her own as he moved up to the door, his face scrunched up as if he'd eaten something that didn't agree with him.

"You're neither covered in mangy fur or slimy scales, so that narrowed down my choices rather quickly."

She suddenly stopped fiddling with the lock. _What did that damn fetcher just imply?_

He laughed suddenly, the mocking tone in his voice becoming even more pronounced. "…I'm sorry, am I not speaking loudly and clearly enough for you to understand me? Typical Bosmer. Your kind never did take the time to become educated."

Anger began to build, a slow, steady burning sensation deep in her chest. Patience wasn't one of her better qualities, but now was not the time for her to lose it!

"Come to think of it, why are you here? There's nothing down here for you, no forests, no open spaces, none of your filthy animals…nothing but harsh rock and stone. You're trapped here at the mercy of others, Bosmer! Payment for your foolish behavior!"

"I have a name, you sniveling bastard," Linith muttered acerbically.

She couldn't believe she was taking the bait. The metal door shook slightly under her white-knuckle grip, and the tide of the war seemed to be going against her. Simply put, the more she reacted the more she knew he would spot it, reveling in her annoyance and anger.

She would have to be chained up against her will before she'd spend any longer in this gods-forsaken place with him. A week here might mean his murder and her execution, two things that she'd rather not deal with at this time. Her shaking hands began to hurriedly look for loose bolts, weak areas in the bars, anything. Anything to get her out and far, far away from this hole in the earth and the crazy Dunmer stuck in it.

Something suddenly shifted down the hall then, creaking as it moved. Linith's long ears twitched, picking up the slight sound of metal, moving in time with something. The Dunmer in the other cell must've picked up on it too, because he was leaning against the bars and concentrating on the shadows at the end of the stone tunnel.

"Well, I think we have a visitor."

Clanging metal reverberated in her ears and she shot away from the door, not eager to get caught in the act a second time.

Armored footsteps halted once the approaching figure reached the outside of her cell. Pressing herself against the wall, Linith had only one thought concerning her present situation.

_Shit. _

Hieronymus Lex really didn't strike her as the cheerful, understanding type. His current grimace only served to reinforce that fact.

"On your feet, prisoner." She knew that this was one of those times where it was a good idea to listen.

The advantage wasn't hers here. Linith's element was long gone, hidden amongst the trees and houses just outside of the prison. Hesitantly she stood, leaning against the wall and staying in the one area where she did have a mild advantage. The shadows. Right now, she needed them on her side the most.

She just had to try that stunt a few days ago. Maybe he'd make a wild guess and connect the current stains on her face to the dirt she'd slapped on for her half-hearted disguise. Of all the people to blindly point fingers, Hieronymus Lex would probably be the most likely to get it spot on. For that reason, she stayed put.

"From what I understand of yesterday's events, you weren't the only thief to successfully break into the Imperial Trading Company's Offices and Warehouse."

"Why would you think that? How do you know that I wasn't just wandering around there? People take walks at night. Sometimes they find themselves in places they shouldn't be…"

He laughed, a great sound in the tiny space they all occupied. "How stupid do you thieves think I am?"

She wisely chose not to answer that question. When you're involved in a competition seeing how many times you can trick him in a year, it's probably much healthier for you to keep your mouth shut.

Lex eyed her carefully, thinking for a moment before proceeding. "The evidence is against you, and it would very much benefit you to admit to it. Whether you do or don't depends entirely on your sentence. You see, the longer you refuse to admit it, the longer we will hold onto you before you tell us who did."

He leaned in closer to the bars, now speaking in a more conspiratorial tone. "And I know that you're about as partial to your current residence as I am to the Gray Fox himself. Make it easier for us and we'll make it easier for you. Progress is progress, and every bit will count towards your release."

Admitting it would be the first mistake. Saying anything about her friends or the Gray Fox would be the next. Which was more important at the moment? Release or loyalty?

The answer was all too easy to find. Loyalty. She'd craved it for years, and would rot in this cell rather than give it up so easily.

Linith sighed, letting her shoulders slump. "Okay, you want an answer? Fine. I did it… It was my target and mine alone. Does that count as progress?"

He stood very still, barely moving before nodding slowly. "…Progress is progress."

He was handling her very delicately at this point and Linith knew that he was waiting for any small mistake to happen. Lex's eyes were glued to her, and she began to suspect that he was picking apart anything he could spot, ranging from her messy hair and her wary stare, to her minutely twitching fingers.

"Why can't we use magic in here?" she asked hesitantly, raising both of her hands to push the slipping bandages back up onto their place on her forehead.

"We capture sorcerers as well as pirates and thieves. It's for our safety as well as yours that we keep magic use to a strict minimum. Wounds will be given minor care if the injury is considered serious, but no more courtesy will be extended beyond that. This is the Imperial Prison, not a local Inn."

Linith tried to cross her arms, and fought with the chain for a few seconds before giving up, reaching both hands up rub a cramp in the back of her neck. "If that were the case, I'd complain about the living arrangements…" she sighed.

His eyes narrowed, watching her with renewed suspicion. "What was that?"

"Huh? Oh! I was thinking about how this place reminds me of home." She smiled, a gaudy thing in and of itself, and she mentally smacked herself for fooling around. Now wasn't the time, and Lex wasn't the one to pick on for now.

Mild annoyance crossed his features, but it faded as he stood up straighter, clearing his throat. Her thoughts on the cell or the prison were fairly inconsequential, and she sensed that he was getting to the real business at hand. "Now…I was hoping you could tell me where to locate the Gray Fox."

She really should've expected that question. Still she couldn't help the look of exasperation on her face. "You're joking with me, right? I'm a thief. I don't deal in myths and legends."

Now, if only you had asked my extended family that question… I have a few aunts who'd probably string me up for doubting that fact.

She respected the Gray Fox for what he was, but even she wasn't sure if he was real or not. Words were spoken about him in passing, rumors about appearances and clandestine meetings, and the only picture she had to refer to was the one posted on every wall in the Imperial City.

Only Armand had hinted that he'd been able to communicate with him, and judging by his seriousness on the matter he believed in the master thief entirely.

"Prisoner!"

Impatience had leaked into Lex's voice by now, and her eyes were once again reluctantly focusing on him. "All of the thieves know, respect, and fear the Gray Fox. I know the hold he has on the Waterfront, and the words spoken about me behind my back. You all think of me as some lumbering incompetent, but I won't rest until he's captured, convicted, and condemned. That's my duty to this city and to its people, and I won't rest until I've taken him in myself. I'm going to ask you one more time, do you know of the Gray Fox's location?"

"No, and just in case you were still wondering if I was lying to you, no. I really don't. In fact, I want you to consider something."

Temporarily forgetting her pledge to keep herself relatively concealed, she slowly approached the bars, raising her hands so she could curl her fingers around them.

"I am stuck here in this miserable place because I did something foolish and got caught stealing from a warehouse. Careless and clumsy as I am, if I were someone who was part of the Gray Fox's…inner circle, I would hardly be assigned such a mundane task. Trust me, it'd be a lot more exciting, like stealing a scroll from the Arcane University, or your pants while you were still wearing them."

His mouth opened and closed and she quickly continued to speak, not willing to let him interrupt in the slightest. With every new sentence came an increased feeling of boldness, and some part of her relished the fact that she did nothing to curb it.

"There'd be no chance of me getting caught, and I certainly wouldn't still be here now. In the absolute worst of situations, a potential follower of the Gray Fox, according to myths and legends mind you, would simply wait for you walk away, leaving nothing but an empty cell by morning. What we have here, however, is a simple thief caught on a bad day, and a guard captain renowned for chasing shadows. You know what we both think is going to happen? You're going to leave and come back, day after day, asking me the same questions every time…and I'm going to give you the same answers, regardless of whether we like it or not."

Under torchlight, she could see the red tint covering his face and ears, and the way he kept his lips pursed tightly. Linith could see that he was straining to retain his composure, and the snickering coming from the other cell did nothing to help that. Clearing his throat loudly, he maintained eye contact, trying to keep himself in a position of authority.

"You won't…reconsider?" he asked in a strained tone, his patience worn down to the bone.

Her response was a staunch, "No."

"Very well. You are still expected to serve out your sentence due to the current bounty on your head. Do keep in mind that if you happen to escape or if you're caught in the act of escaping, I'll deal with the matter personally, and the consequences will be far from favorable. Maybe some time here will help to re-examine your ways and remind you of what you've done." He brusquely left, his boots clanking with each step until they faded and were replaced by the sudden slamming of a door.

She watched him go for a couple of seconds and then rested her head against the bars. Not smart at all. Leave it to her to try and make a point in a prison cell to one of the most stubborn people in Cyrodiil.

The snickering from the other cell stopped, but now he was eyeing her while wearing a malicious grin.

"A thief, with wandering hands and sticky fingers? Hah! How does it feel to have your own things taken from you? Payback from all those times you couldn't keep your hands to yourself!"

"So help me," she cut in, her temper finally boiling over. "if we find a way out of here and by some unlucky twist I meet you again on the street, I won't hesitate to beat you senseless and turn you into a pin-cushion." She shot through clenched teeth.

He didn't seem to be fazed by her statement or the venom behind it, and she could barely make out his muffled response. Was that laughter? "Ha! You silly Wood Elf. Is that what you call a threat?"

"No, but give me enough time and I'll come up with a better one…"

She'd had enough. At the moment she could do nothing to help her situation, only learn to get through it and ride it out until it ended. Destructive emotions and thoughts would only bring her down, and she refused to give in to such thinking.

Linith approached the back of her cell and leaned against the stone wall, sliding to the ground in an ungraceful heap. Maybe the guards would do the their usual rounds soon and she'd get something to eat. Knowing that what she'd get would probably be mush rather than venison or boar, she hoped that she would at least get a fork or knife.

She thought about it for a while, the idea of carving her own lockpick bringing it's own sense of relief to her nerves, but eventually shook her head at the idea. No, with Lex present that would never happen. Not when he was personally keeping an eye on every thief picked up off the streets.

With her hair in her face, she pulled her knees towards her so she could pick at the bottom of one of her pant legs. When the tear was deep enough, she ripped off a long strip and used it to tame the tangled and dirty beast currently taking up residence on her head. A low ponytail did the trick, and once done with the simple task she dropped her hands down on her stomach, staring blankly at the dimly lit hallway.

All she could do now was wait.

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Thanks are definitely given to Sonsasu The Winter Dragon for helping me with the start of this chapter. I'm really sorry that it took so long to do, but it's done, and hopefully editing and writing will be done to continue this. I'm going to take this at a good pace since I've come to realize that this is…ambitious to say the least, but I don't want to stop. Let me know if you spot any grammar errors, and what you think of it. Enjoy!


	3. A Lucky Break

_Disclaimer:_

_I do not own the Elder Scrolls series, but Bethesda does. They're a very lucky bunch, aren't they?_

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**Tempting Fate**

Chapter 2- A Lucky Break

_Linith rocked back and forth while she sat within an old hollow barrel, not knowing or caring how she had stumbled into this place. What she did care about however, was the absurdly bitter drink in her hand, and if she could somehow get more of it. It made her head fuzzy and the background blend together, but the happy, nonsensical feeling washing over her was one she wanted to keep. _

_The liquid swirled in her glass as she regarded it, and her current train of thought declared that it was neither half-empty nor half-full. It simply wasn't full enough._

_Beginning to sing off-key to no audience in particular she regarded everyone and no one; the haze slithering through the air obscured her sight as the alcohol did her mind, so she wholeheartedly embraced the role of the loud, obnoxious drunkard belting out notes to songs only she could know._

_However, at the onset of her dramatic crescendo, something heavy landed on her outstretched arm sending half of her drink out onto the stained wooden floor. Now that was something she refused to laugh and be merry about._

"_Hey, I need that! G...get off!" It splashed onto Linith's lap this time, as her brain forgot to register that she was flailing about while still holding the substance in question. In the end, she did get the weight to fly off of her arm temporarily before settling onto her legs instead. Claws sank in, and she stared down two narrowed, golden eyes._

_Rowan made his irritation quite clear from his slightly painful perch on her knees, his feathers puffing up around him, but the message became quite clear once he decided to take a stab at a choice part of her thigh. _

"_Ow!" she yelped, wincing at the sudden pain. "Watch it, you dumb…t-thing! You could hurt someone!"_

"_Oy, don't blame me!" He snapped back unexpectedly. "Yer the dumb one who's bloody drunk!"_

_Her head swung forward as she looked at her companion quite closely, noticing off-handedly the sensation of her brain attempting to ooze through her ears rather than her now-forgotten ire. "Hey…something's different about you." _

_Linith shook her head and waited for everything to stop spinning before continuing to ramble. "Might be that "outrageous" accent of yours, but I'm not too sure…?" _

_The barrel rocked suddenly and she quickly gripped the edges to steady herself. It was probably not a good idea in hindsight to get smashed while sitting in the smallest barrel available, but her wiggling wasn't making it any easier to do._

"_Wot? You thinkin' I just grew another set o' wings? I dunno why any o' you lot ever drink tha' slop. Makes you drunk n' stupid." Rowan pecked at her pant leg this time, and she half-heartedly slapped at him to make him stop. "I'd do this more if I could. Yer havin' a bad dream right now."_

_Ignoring him completely, she scrunched her face up into a look that was more ridiculous than intimidating. "Bad? Well, you're making it worse. My drink's gone and I'm stuck with a finicky bird who won't shut up. Get the hell off my leg before I decide to eat you." He pecked at her again as she shook the barrel._

"_Wake up! Yer not where you think you are-!"_

"_Get off-!" She yelled, swinging wildly before the barrel pitched forward, sending her tumbling down…_

Her head slammed against harsh stone, jolting her awake and out of her vice-filled reverie like an unforgiving punch to the face. The dank darkness of her surroundings met her eyes a second time as they darted around the room, and that reality wasn't getting any easier to acknowledge. Chains dug into her wrists, dirt and grime covered every inch of her, and dreams of alcohol only reinforced the mess she had thrown herself into.

She had probably decided to sleep on the table in her cell, forgetting how unreliable its stability was, and consequently took a spill onto the hard, gritty floor. It had made sense at the time, but more than anything she'd wanted to forget about the "meal" the guards had shoved at her earlier.

Linith didn't think there was a way to make gruel any more insufferable than it already was, but the thing that they'd sent her way? Deadly. It probably had the potential to take out an entire squad of guards with just a single serving.

She wiped her face with both of her hands, while her stomach growled at the foreign substance coating its insides.

_I'm never eating prison food ever again._

With that in mind she let out a long sigh, briefly entertaining the thought of sleep again, if only for the chance of getting another cup of that amazing whatever-it-was.

…But all ideas concerning her token poison of choice ended abruptly when she turned over and suddenly found herself nose-to-nose with a small rat. The skittish creature reacted as she did, both jumping in fright before it decided to get as far away from the Bosmer as possible.

Reflexes kicked in then, and her hand shot out, snatching the scared thing before it could dart between the bars of the cell door.

After all attempts to escape were rendered less than probable, the rat stayed put, peering up at her as she held it, the tremors running through it with every frenzied heartbeat.

"Hey, hey don't be scared…" she said softly, maintaining eye contact and making sure not to startle it further or worse, disturb her surly neighbor. "You know this place well, don't you? All the secret places that no one else sees or knows about?"

It twitched its nose, thinking for a few seconds while it studied her movements and the tone of her voice. She loosened her grip and it slowly approached her, sniffing at her face in curiosity. The rat didn't seem to view her in a threatening manner as it did before, or attempt to escape, so maybe the plan forming itself in her mind would have a chance of working.

Gathering it carefully in her hands so as not to threaten or shock it, she crept closer to the door, showing it the stone staircase to the right of her cell. "I need you to be my little scout right now. Do you think you can do that? Can you head up those stairs and see where it leads? There's a nice piece of cheese waiting for you later if you do…"

Lex had come from the door at the other end of the hallway, the likes of which she could barely spot. Chances were that end was heavily guarded if it didn't lead upstairs as well, but with a new friend on her side, she could easily see if the staircase near her was her key to freedom. She clearly wasn't her mother, but hopefully some of that talent ran through her veins.

She lowered the rat to the ground, and it took a few careful steps, standing on its hind legs to poke its nose in the air. Seeing that Linith showed no signs of aggression or hostility it continued its small journey, wiggling through the bars and checking the air in the hall this time. She sighed in relief once it slowly began to ascend the staircase, soon moving out of her line of sight. Gripping the bars until her knuckles were white, she kept her eyes stuck to the stairs, hoping for something, anything.

That was when her ears picked it up, a high-pitched noise echoing from above. Only one thing could make that sound, and the creature in question practically flew down the stairs and zipped right into her cell, terrified squeaks and all. She picked it up, desperately trying to read and understand its panic, while trying to quiet it down.

"Dammit, woman! Keep your filthy vermin in line!"

_So much for keeping him out of the way,_ she thought, scowling as he loudly rattled the metal gate keeping him locked in.

"Silence that bloody racket over there! Can't you see that I'm trying to sleep?"

"You're the one making the racket-ow!" The bite to her thumb focused her attention on the rat squirming and squeaking in her hands. She listened closely, and its panicked message finally sank in.

Someone was coming.

The sound of a slammed door shocked her out of her stupor, causing her to drop the rat in surprise. What now? She had to do something, think of something-

"This is it!" The Dunmer was openly laughing at her, the sadistic glee in his voice making her more than a little sick to her stomach. "You know what this means, Bosmer? They're coming for you! You're going to die down here!"

"Quiet!" she yelled, a cold sweat already beginning to settle over her.

_No, he wouldn't…_

Linith didn't think that Lex would go to such extremes, but she wasn't about to waste time considering it. She sprinted to the back corner of her cell, grabbing the small cup that the guards had left with her earlier. Needing a weapon more than a drink, she threw the dirty water onto the ground, her thoughts running amok in her mind.

_How many, why were they coming, who sent them, were they after her-_

She attempted to swallow the growing lump in her throat, but couldn't. The voices were finally close enough for her to hear, and she crouched low to the ground, her shaking hand gripping the clay cup with an iron grip.

One of them approached her cell, casting an imposing shadow over its contents. "-ay calm. We're going to get you to safety. All we need to do is…wait! What's this prisoner doing here? This cell was to be left vacant at all times!"

It was a woman, and a really angry one at that. That little detail definitely wasn't missed by her companions, as one of them hesitantly moved up to the barred door in the hopes of speaking calmly with his leader. "…A miscommunication perhaps? Maybe a mix up with the watch?"

The woman raised her hand, silencing him. "It's too late now. This is merely a complication, nothing more, nothing less." She gestured to the doors keeping them from entering. "You two, get these gates open. We can't afford to wait any longer. Stand back prisoner, or we won't hesitate to kill you!"

The gates lurched open, shrieking in protest, and Linith didn't need to be told twice. A weight had settled uncomfortably on her chest, causing her heart to slam against her ribcage. In the meantime, her hands were literally tied as the last tangible barrier between her and them was deftly dealt with.

There was an urgency to their movements, evident by both their voices and their stance. She spotted three as they moved in closer, the woman she assumed to be their leader, and two men, both following her closely. The heavy armor covering them looked like none she had ever seen before, the metal and plates foreign and under the torchlight appeared nothing short of menacing. Sharp, wicked katanas gleamed in the torchlight from their position by their sides, and each warrior kept one hand dangerously close to the handle.

The Redguard closest to her kept his posture rigid, and his gaze fixed squarely on her. He had no reason to trust someone who had done something rash enough to earn a jail sentence, but his close attention kept her even more on her toes. He had the look of someone just waiting for a mistake to be made, and his position near his superior told her that he would not tolerate any threats to her safety.

The other one was subtler in the message he sent through his body language. He moved with an ease that came only to those that were comfortable in their surroundings, and the shadows embraced him a bit too quickly for her liking.

Her odds were getting worse by the second.

"You, prisoner!" Linith's eyes darted to the other Redguard, the one who was trying to dissect her every move. "Keep to the corner and stay out of our way!"

She raised her hands in surrender, the cup clattering to the ground, long forgotten. It was just a day filled with orders, wasn't it? Either way, any hint of bravado dissolved instantly and there was no way she was going to interfere now.

Survival was the important thing here, not dignity. She had only one life to live, and it certainly wasn't going to end while she was stuck in a prison located in the hind-end of the Empire. Besides, it seemed like they weren't even interested in her at all. Her cell, however, appeared to be a different story.

Their leader spoke up again, with an authoritative tone. "Glenroy, keep an eye on her, and Baurus watch the hallway. We don't need any more complications…"

"Yes, captain!" They responded in unison, both focused on their task. Glenroy happened to do that particularly well, Linith noted, resisting the urge to give him a dirty look.

He blocked most of her line of sight, but not enough to stop her from seeing another man. The woman, a Breton, Linith supposed, was guiding an older man to the stone wall lining the right side of her cell. The captain took great care to keep him hidden, but just as she managed to see him, he managed to spot her.

He stopped in his tracks, looking horrified and awestruck, some bizarre combination that she could not decipher even if she wanted to. "You…"

Breaking away from the captain as she reached out for him, he rapidly approached a surprised Linith. Glenroy rapidly reached for his sword, making sure to keep the thief at a distance but was stopped when the man he was escorting raised his hand.

"…Let me see your face."

It took some time for the request to register, but Linith slowly rose to her feet, her hands still in the air where the guards could see them. Her knees shook lightly, and she had no choice but to acknowledge her sudden bout of nervousness.

He examined her for a few nerve-wracking seconds before nodding. "So, it has come to pass… You truly are the one from my dreams. The stars have marked this day, and now I must summon the strength to face it."

Her head spun, and the sensation was far from pleasant. "…Dreams? I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about…" she said, grateful that words exited her mouth rather than an ungraceful 'Huh?'

He smiled, the expression calm, yet sad in a way. "My sons are dead, victims of a power more sinister than any we have faced so far, and such a power hopes that I will suffer the same fate. My Blades were hoping to put an end to their plans by helping me to escape from the city. You see, your cell leads to a secret route, one that has been hidden until now and this path will lead us all to safety. I did not anticipate us meeting on this day however, and as my dreams have predicted, my path may soon come to an end."

Linith felt like she should know this man. He spoke to her with such a familiarity that it almost made her ashamed to ask who he was. "…Who _are_ you?"

The smile never left his face. "I am your Emperor, Uriel Septim."

_No._ Words had failed her before, and after that confession she decided they were never coming back. The Emperor, here of all places? "I don't-"

Glenroy began to draw his sword, but the Emperor stopped him once more. He motioned for her to continue, his blue eyes staring almost through her.

She hesitated briefly. "…I- I don't understand. You think I was placed here to help you?"

"There is a possibility. You are here for a reason, and quite possibly the gods may have had some hand in that. I do know that your path will continue beyond this place, and that your deeds up until now will no longer define you. A new path will be revealed to you, and if you choose to follow it, then you will be remembered for hundreds of years to come."

_A new path?_ His gaze was far from lucid, making her feel as if he were glimpsing beyond the surface, looking into her very being. The feeling of sudden exposure should've put her defenses on full alert, but she felt oddly…curious.

"What should I do?" Linith asked, under the impression that he might be able to give guidance or hints towards her future.

"That I cannot decide for you. Only know that the choices you make will affect many, and that the path you walk will not be an easy one…"

The shifting of stone broke the tense silence then, the roaring sound of the wall announcing a newly revealed exit. Dirt and dust scattered into the air, and Linith felt as if she had just awoken from a trance. The sudden question of her future and its link to the Emperor's was almost too farfetched to consider, but there was something there that she couldn't ignore. He spoke the words with such belief, such conviction...

"Sire!" The captain appeared at his side, gently laying a hand on his shoulder. "We need to get you to safety. There's little time left… Please, follow me."

He nodded, and let her guide him carefully towards the darkened staircase carved into the cell wall. She also signaled for the two others, Baurus and Glenroy, to join them. "We'll leave this open for now. It'd be too dangerous for us to have only one exit."

Linith watched them go, and looked at Glenroy just in time to catch the sneer he had waiting for her. "I highly suggest that you don't follow us." He gave her one last glare before stalking towards the door, with Baurus bringing up the rear.

The last Blade looked back at her for a few seconds, a wry smile on his face. "Looks like this is your lucky day…" He then followed the others, disappearing into the dark that awaited them.

Silence overtook everything once more, leaving nothing but a stunned thief alone in her cell with a viable exit staring straight at her.

Linith almost couldn't believe it. In no way did she expect the Emperor and his personal guards to just waltz into her cell looking for a self-proclaimed "secret escape route". They may as well have been wearing dresses or jester's uniforms. It almost would've been plausible at that rate.

Or maybe the Witless Pox was finally taking effect. Her little friend didn't live in the cleanest of places…

Something bit into her foot and she yelped, jumping around as if the floor were made of red-hot magma. As unnecessary as it was, the second bite did bring some sense of the present to her mind. She was faced with a gigantic hole in the side of her cell, one that was practically screaming the word that she had so longed to hear.

Freedom.

That opportunity would only be offered once, and she would sooner spit-shine Hieronymus Lex's entire suit of armor than miss it.

Linith lowered herself into a crouch as she regarded her small friend, a bright smile on her face. "You've proven to be a sneaky little thing. I promised you some cheese earlier, but there's none to be found here. Maybe if I find some where I'm going I can save it for you. Who knows?"

It gave her one last excited squeak and scampered off to safety, heading back into the mazes and tunnels it knew so well in the Imperial Prison. She really was grateful for its help, and hoped that the tunnels would give it the reward that she had promised it.

As she rose to her feet, she exhaled, running her fingers over her face and through her hair before turning towards the only other person left in the area.

The sheer look of confusion mixed with jealousy was one that she hoped she would never forget. He simply gaped at the pathway set before her, knowing that while she continued onward, walking, striding, prancing, what-have-you…he would be stuck here. Alone. Trapped.

Linith turned around, and her foot bumped the small tan cup she had dropped earlier. Bending over to grab it, she examined it closely, sparing the Dunmer a glance every few seconds or so. She tossed it into the air once, twice…

_…Nah. It'd be a waste of a perfectly good cup._

* * *

Sorry about the long wait! I let the semester keep me distracted, but I'm telling myself to be patient when it comes to this story. I'm working on it, little by little, and I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint. Let me know if there's anything I should edit or look at more closely. Thanks definitely go out to Sonsasu the Winter Dragon for looking over the first part of this chapter too. The help is always greatly appreciated. I hope you all enjoy!


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